The Phone Calls
by acmabry
Summary: I think one of the sweetest things about Starsky is his devotion and love for his mom. So, I decided to write a series of stories exploring the lives of Starsky & Hutch through the phone calls Starsky has with his mom. They won't follow a specific time line, so enjoy the surprise as they post! For Wanda, my friend and biggest Phone Call fan, I dedicate them all to you.
1. The First One-Sounds of Home

**Phone Call – The First One**

 **Sounds of Home**

It was Friday afternoon and the house was quiet…too quiet. Rachel hated the quiet, at times so loud, it would hurt her ears. She missed the sounds of love that made a house a home - the laughter, the talking, doors banging, feet running, brothers fighting.

But, those sounds were gone, in a flash, the sound of a gun destroying the sounds of home.

She remembered the day Henry Reagan knocked on her door. Henry, his wife Betty, and their son Frank were all close friends of the Starsky family. Henry and Michael Starsky had hoped to partner one day when they became detectives. Betty and Rachel were best of friends, along with her David and their Frank.

Rachel could tell by the look on Henry's face that the news was not good. As Henry told the story of Michael's murder on the streets of New York, Rachel felt a piece of her heart die, murdered with her husband…blood from her heart mingling with the blood of her dead husband.

By the time David and Nicky had gotten home from school, Rachel had found the strength she needed to tell her sons their father was dead. David ran to Uncle Henry, as he was called, demanding answers to questions a thirteen year old boy should never have to ask. Years later, Rachel would look back on that day, and realize that was when the detective in her David was born.

The next two weeks were a blur. Michael Starsky was a well-respected officer and the outpouring of grief and support was both welcome and overwhelming. There was a wake, a memorial service, a funeral, with Michael's coffin carried thru the streets of New York. Through it all, Nicky clung to his mother, too young to fully understand while David clung to his anger, old enough to understand, that all their lives were forever changed because of some punk on a street corner. The anger inside him grew.

Six months later, on a cold Friday, Rachel stood at the airport terminal, a piece of her heart breaking even more. David was boarding an airplane to fly to the West Coast. Flying away from her and, hopefully, flying to a new start and a new life.

She remembered him crying the night before, begging and pleading for her to let him stay. David had been getting into more and more trouble, in school and on the streets. Frank Regan had brought him home many times and Rachel tried to talk to her son, but the anger in him grew stronger…and the defiance.

Finally, David had been caught with a tough gang of boys, the kind that would carry him away from her forever. That night, after the arguing had stopped and David was asleep, Rachel walked into his room, looked at his sleeping face, touched his tender dark curls, and knew what needed to be done to protect her son from himself. She had lost her husband to the mean streets of New York, she would not lose her oldest.

Rachel called her sister in California and, with tears streaming down her face, explained the details to Rosa. Immediately, Rosa agreed and plans were made for David to come stay with her.

That was two weeks ago and Rachel still had not spoken to David. Rosa had called, telling her that David has arrived safely and was settling in. But, David refused to speak to Rachel, his anger and hurt still very strong.

Suddenly, Rachel's thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of her phone.

"Hello" she said.

"Ma…it's me David" came the sweetest sound to her ears.

"David, oh David!" Rachel said excitedly, a tear rolling down her cheek. "It's so good to hear from you my dear. How are you?"

"I'm good Ma, really I am. How are you…how is Nicky?" David asked.

"Oh, son, I am fine and so is your brother. He is next door playing right now." Rachel answered, soaking in the sound of his voice. "How was your flight David? Was it exciting? Did you have fun?" So many questions to ask, so much to catch up on.

"Ma, this flying thing is a breeze!" David said, his voice rising with excitement. "I got to visit the cock pit and talk with the Captain. They even let me sit right up front. The stewardesses said it was to keep an eye on me! Well, they were pretty enough, so I didn't mind, 'cause I got to keep an eye on them!" he said with a laugh in his voice.

"David Michael Starsky!" Rachel said with a shocked tone in her voice, trying to hold her laughter in.

"Yes," she thought to herself, "this young one is his father's son – a charmer and a rascal all rolled into one curly headed bundle of energy."

Rachel continued her gentle scolding. "You should be ashamed, speaking of those ladies like that!"

David laughed, Rachel soaking in the music of his laughter. "Aww Ma, they didn't mind it! They said I was cute and would be a real heart breaker one day…guess that's a good thing…right?" he asked.

"Yes David, that can be a good or bad but that depends on you." Rachel thought for a second and continued, "The important thing is to always treat people with love, respect, and compassion. One day, you will be a grown man, with the responsibilities of family and friends. Treat people kindly David, learn to trust and love and care. Do that and you will be blessed with true friends – friends who will always be there for you – no matter what."

"Yes ma'am, I will Mom. For you, for Nicky, and for dad, I promise to do just that." David said, all of sudden sounding very grown up.

Rachel heard David shuffling, she smiled, knowing that he was bouncing from one foot to the other. In the knowledge that only a mother can have of her child, Rachel waited patiently for David to say what was truly in his heart.

"Ma," David said softly, a tear in his voice, "I'm sorry about the way I acted after Pa died and I'm sorry I haven't called you. I was just so mad, mad that Dad got shot. Mad at the dirt bags who shot him, mad at you for sending me away, I was just mad at everyone!" the pain and anguish in David's voice breaking Rachel's heart. "I knew I was gettin' in too much trouble, hangin' with the wrong kind of kids. Ma...I'm so sorry...I never, never meant to hurt you. Ma…I love you."

"Oh David, I love you too, son." Rachel said, her mother's love reaching out across the miles to touch her son, "I never stopped and I never will. You mean so very much to me. I just wanted you to be safe and staying with Aunt Rosa, for now, is the way to do that. No need to apologize my little Davela, you are safe and you are well, that is most important

"You mean it Ma, you are not mad at me! Not mad at how bad I was, how I acted, how I treated you?" David asked in a startled voice.

"David, I will be honest, because you are old enough for that. I was hurt more than mad when you started acting up. But, by then, you had started down the wrong path. That's when I decided for you to stay with Rosa." Rachel explained. "But, that is the past, we have our future David, and that is where we shall go from here…all right?"

"Alright Ma, that sounds good to me," David said, relief in his voice knowing that his mother did still love him. Suddenly, David remembered the phone calls his mother had made these past two weeks where he refused to talk with her. He felt so ashamed of himself for hurting her like that and he vowed never do that again.

"Ma, I promise, I'll call ya more. I'll call ya every Friday, Ma, even if it's for just a few minutes I'll call ya. To make sure you are okay, Nicky's okay, and everyone's okay," said the strong voice of her sweet son.

Rachel, settling into her chair, listened as David told her all the things he had been doing these past two weeks. Friends he had made, places he had explored. A new friend on the police force named John Blaine, a cool red car owned by Rosa's neighbors, a guy named Earl (or was it Merle - David could not remember) who owned a body shop behind Uncle Al's car lot.

Her son was coming back to her. His voice, strong and happy, the sound she had needed and longed to hear. A sound that made her house a home again coming through the phone – her David's first phone call.


	2. The Brown Paper Bag-A Thanksgiving Story

The Brown Paper Bag

(A Thanksgiving Story)

It was the Friday before Thanksgiving and Rachel Starsky was relaxing, going through her mail. Her phone rang, breaking the quietness of the house. Looking at her watch, a worried look creased her brow. If this was David then something was wrong; it was too early in the day for his weekly call.

"Ma!" David said breathlessly, not even giving Rachel a chance to say hello. "I'm in trouble, I don't know what to do! I need your help and I need it fast, Ma!"

"What's wrong, David!" Rachel asked, her own voice growing panicky. "Are you hurt? Is Kenneth hurt?

"What? No, Ma; we're fine. For once, nobody's hurt," he said with a chuckle. "But, I do have a problem and Ma, you're the only one that can help me." The seriousness in David's voice all too noticeable.

"David, what is going on? What kind of help do you need?" Her fear giving way to curiosity.

"Ma…I gotta cook a turkey...next week…for Thanksgiving…for Hutch, Huggy, Dobey, Edith, and the kids…and I have no idea what I'm doin'! I really need your help Ma!" he said, the panic returning just a bit.

Rachel was speechless for just a second and then she laughed, just a little. "And, just how did you end up having to cook a turkey for Thanksgiving!"

"Well, ya see, me'n Hutch was talkin' at the station. Hutch was tellin' me about this special way he cooks his turkey for Thanksgiving, the way he bastes it and seasons it and stuffs it and all that. Well, I kinna got irritated with the way he was talkin' and kinna told him I had a secret way to cook a turkey and that was better than his. Next thing I knew, I was agreeing to cook a turkey for Thanksgiving! And then, Dobey came out, so Hutch told him about my turkey secret and the next thing I knew, he had invited the whole Dobey family over! And then Huggy and Diane and Minnie… Ma, I have to cook a turkey for a bunch of people…help!" The panic was rising in his voice.

It took all of Rachel's will power not to bust out laughing over the phone. Only her David, who could take down the worst that Bay City had to offer, was having a major meltdown over cooking a turkey.

"David, first calm down. It's a turkey, not one of those bad guys you and Ken go chasing after around Bay City. It's not that hard, I promise," she said, trying to calm her nervous son.

"First order of business is to get a turkey. So, today or tomorrow at the latest, go to the market and purchase a fifteen pound frozen turkey. Along with the other food you'll have that day, that should be enough for everyone."

Suddenly, Rachel had a thought that could complicate the whole day. "David, who's cooking the rest of the meal? The gravy, dressing, vegetables?" Rachel knew that David could handle the turkey, it was all the other food that could cause the downfall of Chef Starsky.

"Oh, Hutch and the rest have all that covered, it's just me and the turkey," he said with the same relief that Rachel felt.

"Good," Rachel replied. "That will make this much easier."

"Hey Ma, gotta go. Hutch is downstairs. I'm gonna go by the market when I get off work tonight. If I have any questions, I'll call ya," he said hurriedly.

"Oh wait, David!" Rachel called

She could hear the phone going back to David's ear, "What, Ma?"

"When you get the turkey, look for the ones that have the pop up timer. It will say so on the packaging, that's important so you'll know the bird is done."

"Okay, got it Ma…later"

"Oh, one more thing!" she called out.

"What Ma, I gotta go! Hutch is waiting for me already!" David said impatiently.

"I know, but this is important, almost as important as the turkey. Make sure you get a brown paper bag, one that hasn't been used. You must have the paper bag, David, don't forget that."

"A paper bag?" she could hear David stop for a second, trying to figure out what she meant.

Confusion in his voice, David just said, "Okay, Ma, you're the cook. Gotta go, love ya, talk with ya later."

"Love you too, Son; be careful," she said as the line went dead.

"Oy," Rachel thought, "it's going to be an interesting week."

It was the Wednesday before Thanksgiving and Rachel was on the phone with David…again. They had talked a lot over the past week, making sure everything was ready for the big day. Rachel was enjoying every moment of each conversation.

"David, time to get the turkey out of the fridge and get him ready to cook," she instructed.

"Okay Ma, sounds good," David said nestling the phone between his ear and neck. "Tell me what to do, I'm ready."

"First, take the turkey out of the bag and put in the sink. There will be a metal ring around the legs; it's okay to keep them there. You need to wash the turkey really good, don't forget the front and back cavity.

"Okay, be right back," and she heard the clunk of the phone as it was laid on the counter.

Suddenly, she heard a loud thump and clatter, and a few choice words coming from her son.

"David!" she called, "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"S'okay Ma; it's all okay," he said breathlessly. "I, um, just dropped the turkey on the floor, it's a slippery bugger."

Rachel laughed out loud, she just couldn't help herself. "Oh, you did remember to take the neck bone and other parts to Edith for the gravy, right?"

"Yeah, once I figured out what all that stuff was. Yuck…!"

Minutes later, the slippery run away turkey had been washed and ready for the next step. "Okay Ma, what's next?"

"Get the butter out, along with some salt and pepper."

After a moment of plundering, David picked the phone back up and said, "Okay, I got the butter, salt, and pepper…now what?"

"Wash your hands really good. With a spoon, get two or three scoops of butter and put them on top of the turkey. Then spread the butter all over the bird with your hands. Be sure to get inside and out. Once you are done with that, add the salt and pepper," she said.

"Spread with my hands! Ma, that's gooey and gross!" he yelled.

"David, you deal with gooey and gross in your job all the time, and this bothers you?" she asked with wonder.

"Well, this is different," he said with a pout.

"No, it isn't," Rachel shot back. "Just pretend it's the mud you and Nick used to play in in the back yard, only this is yellow and not dark."

"Oh, yeah, but…that was gooey, gross and fun," he said laughing.

"David..." she warned.

"Okay, okay… geez! Hang on. I'm buttering," and the phone clunked on the counter top again.

"…and salt and pepper," she reminded the reluctant chef.

A few minutes later, the turkey had been seasoned. Rachel could hear David washing the "gooey, gross" buttery mess off his hand. Picking up the phone, he asked about the next step.

"Place some tin foil over the bird and put him back in the refrigerator. Now, in the morning, all you need to do is put the turkey in the paper bag, then in the oven. You need to get up early, he needs to be cooking by seven am."

"Seven am?" David said surprised. "It's Thanksgiving, supposed to sleep late!"

"Not when you are the turkey cooker! I never had a chance to sleep late. You have to make sure the oven is hot and ready by seven at the latest," she said with a laughter in her voice.

"Ma, remind me to keep my mouth shut at Thanksgiving next year...okay?" he said tiredly. "Good night Ma, this turkey cooker is pooped."

"Night, Son. I'll talk with you tomorrow."

Thanksgiving morning found Rachel on the phone, trying to get in touch with her sleeping son. Finally, on the sixth ring, a sleepy groggy voice answered, "H'lo."

"David, wake up! Time to get the turkey in the oven," she said.

"Oh, okay Ma, I'm getting up." Rachel could hear him turning over in his bed.

"David Michael Starsky, get out of bed right now!" she said in a tone that David knew meant business.

"All right, all right! I'm going!" he said. Rachel could hear him getting out of bed and walking to the kitchen, yawning all the way.

"Okay, Ma, I'm here. What do I do?" he asked, the sleepy still in his voice.

"Wash up first, David." Sighing, she wondered if the both of them would make it through this day. "Once you have finished that, put the oven on to 325 and get the turkey out of the refrigerator."

A few minutes later, David was back on the phone, washed, oven on and the bird out of the fridge.

"Put the turkey in the brown paper bag and place in the roaster pan. Close the ends of the bag and put it in the oven. In about three hours, open the bag carefully. If the timer has popped up, it's done. If not, put him back in for a bit longer. Once done, put on the turkey top of the stove for a little while, it needs time to set and cool off."

"Um, Ma…a paper bag in the oven! Won't it catch fire?" he asked hesitantly.

"David, I have been cooking turkeys just like this for years and haven't had the first fire. Just make sure the bag doesn't touch the burners and you'll be okay," she assured her wary son.

"Well…okay, you're the cook, Ma, so into the oven he goes!"

A few hours later, Rachel called David. Both to check on the turkey and to make sure he had not gone back to sleep. Amazingly, David answered the phone wide awake! Rachel laughed at the excitement in her his voice! The turkey was done, sliced and ready for the guests. And without burning the house down!

"See son, I knew you could do this. It's not that hard. Next year, you can come home and cook the turkey here."

"It's a date Ma, you got it. Okay, gotta go. I hear Hutch, Huggy, and the Dobey gang coming up the steps. Time to feed'em all the best turkey in the world, except for yours of course."

"Have a good time son, tell everyone hello and Happy Thanksgiving for me," she said.

"Will do Ma, love you!" and the line went dead, but not before Rachel heard everyone coming into the apartment and then, Hutch yelling, "I forgot the rolls!"

 **The Next Day**

Rachel sat in her chair, reading a book, enjoying the peace and quiet. After getting David settled with his Thanksgiving meal yesterday, she and Nick had spent the rest of the day with the Reagan clan. They had become Rachel's second family since the death of her husband. But, in her heart she still missed not spending Thanksgiving with her Davela.

Her phone rang and, she knew it was David...the one she gave thanks for daily.

"Hello son, did everything turn out okay yesterday?"

"Hey Ma, this is Dav..wait…how did you know it was me?" he asked in amazement.

"It's Friday, David. You always call on Friday. Besides, I just knew."

David didn't question that; moms did always know, didn't they?

"Yesterday, oh yeah, it was great, Ma! I'm now the new official Thanksgiving turkey cooker! Everyone loved it, couldn't get over how moist and tender it was. And, they couldn't believe I cooked the bird in a brown paper bag, till I showed'em. Hutch and Edith brought the rest of the food, which was also delicious. 'Cept, Hutch forgot the rolls! How can you forget rolls on Thanksgiving, I asked him. He just stood there like a dummy! Then, Edith suggested toast from loaf bread and the problem was solved! You moms are the best, ya can fix everything! And, the best thing is…we'll be eating leftovers for a week."

Stopping to take a breath, Starsky asked, "So, how was your Thanksgiving Ma? Did you spend it with Uncle Henry and the rest of the gang?"

"Yes, it was lovely. We had a good time and there was lots of food, too," she said, trying to hide the little bit of sadness in her voice.

"Ma," David asked quietly, "when Dad was around, remember how at Thanksgiving, we used to go around the table and share something we were thankful for?"

"Oh yes son, I do remember." Rachel said wistfully, wishing she could capture those days again.

"We did that yesterday…know what I gave thanks for Ma?"

"What son?" She asked quietly.

"Brown Paper Bags…" David said even quieter.

"What? David, I don't understand. You have wonderful friends in Bay City, Hutch is your best friend, you're are alive, you're healthy. With all this, why are you thankful for a paper bag?"

"Because, I thought of all the Thanksgiving turkeys you cooked with a brown paper bag. And, it dawned on me you weren't just cookin' a meal Ma, you were cookin' a bag full of love for us all. And yesterday, with all of us sittin' around the table, laughin' and havin' a good time, I realized that's what Thanksgiving is all about. Family, friends, laughin' and lovin'– all wrapped up in a brown paper bag."

Rachel smiled as David continued to tell her about yesterday's festivities – her heart full of love and thanks.

 _Story Note: The description of Starsky cooking the turkey in a brown paper bag is true. My mom cooked all her turkeys like this and I have been doing the same for over thirty years now. The bird really does cook moist and delicious! Happy Thanksgiving!_


	3. Happy New Year Ma

Rachel looked at the clock, ticking quietly in the corner of the room, signaling only a few more minutes till the New Year.

Tonight, unlike other New Year's Eve nights, she was not waiting for a phone call. She knew there would be no ringing in the New Year with the ringing of the phone, no joyous sounds of a party in the making as she tried to hear the voice at the other end.

Tonight there would be no phone call.

The clock struck midnight, outside she could hear fireworks as the celebrations began.

Gently, she stroked the dark curls of her David as he lay sleeping. Once more, she offered a prayer of thanks that her son was alive and that she was here with him.

Was it only eight months ago that her prayers were for David's life? Prayers said while she sat by his hospital bedside, her hands holding his hands tightly, the lifeline of a mother's love to her son.

More fireworks ignited with a dull thud, showering the darkened room in a golden glow.

She turned to look out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of the light show, when she heard him speak.

"Happy New Year Ma," her David said. His voice the only celebration of fireworks she needed.

"Oh David," she said leaning over to take his face in her hands. "Happy New Year to you son!"

"We made it Ma, ya know that? We made it to a new year, a new chance, a new beginning. We made it." He said as tears filled the pools of his vibrant blue eyes.

"No son, you made it. You survived and lived when others said you wouldn't. You made it my sweet Davela. You're going to be ok," she said, kissing him tenderly on the forehead.

The bedroom door opened and Rachel saw Kenneth peeking in. She knew this man, with a connection to her son so strong that it had a will of its own, would be checking in when he heard voices. Seeing that all was calm, he mouthed "Happy New Year" to them both and quietly left the room.

"I love you Ma," David said drifting back to sleep, holding her hand tightly.

"I love you too son," she said holding his hand tightly.

While outside, the celebration of new life, new beginnings, and new possibilities continued.


End file.
